Watchdog
by commandocucumber
Summary: Garrus Vakarian's friendship with Shepard is strained when the Commander's decisions are affected by his romance with the Normandy's executive officer.
1. Chapter 1

Watchdog

The reaper core exploded in a flash of blue light. At once, the entire wreck began to shake as the winds overtook it. Shepard turned to regard the limp form lying at the foot of the console.

"Shepard, Cerberus will want to keep that Geth for study!" Miranda spoke hurriedly, brushing her long silken black hair out of her blue eyes, "We need to take it!"

"No we don't." Garrus Vakarian replied, scanning the room with his assault rifle, "It's a Geth, and we have enough trouble."

Shepard ran forward and hoisted the synthetic sniper over his shoulder. Miranda grabbed its other arm and together they dragged it down the catwalk.

Garrus grabbed Shepard's arm, "John?"

"We don't have time to argue about this! Let's go!" Miranda said.

"She's right." The Spectre told him, keep them off us.

Garrus nodded understandingly and followed them, gunning down any husks he saw.

* * *

John Shepard opened the door to his private cabin. The comforting light of his fishtank greeted him. He immediately began stripping off his armour, placing his kuwashii visor on his desk. He made to walk to the bed, but froze, staring down at the Turian, who had seated himself comfortably in one of Shepard's armchairs. "So…" Garrus muttered, "You and Miranda, huh?"

Shepard licked his lips and glanced guiltily at the fish tank, not quite willing to meet the Turian's eye, "You knew?"

"Not until the reaper." Garrus sighed, "The two of you've kept it well hidden." He looked up at his friend, "But the Shepard I know wouldn't have saved any Geth, deactivated or not."

"I want to know why it has a piece of N7 armour on its chest. It saved us, Garrus."

"Don't give me that. You saved it because Miranda thought we should. After I realized that, a whole load of other things just started making sense."

"Like what?"

"Like the way the two of you spoke when we were saving her sister." The Turian reminded him, "Like the fact that she's out with us on nearly every mission we go on."

"Her biotics complement the sniper-infiltrator tag team you and I have going." Shepard said, loosening the straps on his shoulder pads, "That's it."

"No it's not." The Turian shook his head, his mandibles twitching, "We have more powerful biotics on the team. Thane would be a much better fit. Or Samara. Even Grunt could fight in close-range and keep our enemies from closing the distance with us. But you always take Miranda."

"Maybe I'm trying to keep an eye on her." Shepard reasoned.

"I have no doubt you are," Garrus chuckled darkly, "but for all the wrong reasons. She's extremely pretty by human standards…" his sharp grey eyes met Shepard's own, "But she's designed to be."

Shepard collapsed on the couch, watching his friend carefully. Garrus sat stock still, awaiting the human's reaction. Their eyes met in a silent battle, each trying to get the other to give in first.

Shepard lost. Giving up all pretense, he said, "You didn't see her after the mission with her sister. That whole shield she puts up was gone. She was…" Shepard shrugged helplessly, "vulnerable. Human…"

"Looking up at you with those soulful innocent blue eyes," the Turian wheedled, "Wearing the skintight black catsuit with her raven black hair tangled across her shoulders, her head cocked at just the right angle, moist lips parted slightly with that look in her eyes…" he spoke in a high-pitched girly tone, "Oh John… if only things were different…"

"Stop it." Shepard warned.

"Do you want to know what I saw just a week before we rescued her sister?" Garrus asked, his voice returning to normal.

"Do tell." Shepard grunted through gritted teeth.

"I saw her watching the whole exchange between you and Williams. Cataloging facial expressions and body movements the same way I used to do during C-sec interrogations. Marking down what was said, and what wasn't. She read both of you like a pair of children's books."

"What are you implying?"

"You know damned well what I'm implying!" the Turian spoke harshly, knowing that he could get away with it. No one else would ever have tried. He and Shepard had been through hell together. The two of them had defeated Saren Arterius, Sovereign, and more Geth than any sane person could count. They knew each other inside and out. He was the only member of Shepard's crew which the Commander did not see as a subordinate in any way.

"This whole thing is the illusive man's plan, shepard. That's why _she _was assigned to your team. He wants you on his side when shit hits the fan. They know you, John. A lot better than you do. They knew about Ash, they knew about what your reaction would be. Don't you think it was a little convenient that she found out about her sister _right after horizon_? She's seduced you." Garrus declared.

Shepard sat in stunned silence.

"You know what she's a part of." The Turian continued, "I suspect you remember what happened on Akuze? You and Toombs? That was Cerberus. The Shepard who hunted down Saren Arterius wouldn't be playing their lapdog. I noticed that behavior only started after we rescued her sister, too. You've gone soft, and you've lost sight of the fact that we're walking a very fine line here. Wake up, John."

"She hasn't done anything to screw us." Shepard said angrily.

"Yet." The Turian replied, completely unafraid. He stood up and began walking to the door of Shepard's cabin. When he was level with the glass barrier, he paused and turned, "If that Geth goes to Cerberus, I'm getting the hell off this ship. You aren't the same Shepard I fought beside two years ago."

"I have it under control, Garrus." The human promised quietly, staring at the floor, "I know what I'm doing."

"I don't think you do, Shepard. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and that's a nice ideal, but you need to keep an eye them."

"Getting into bed with Miranda isn't the same as getting into bed with Cerberus."

"Is that your brain speaking, or is your penis doing some wishful thinking?" Garrus asked. His friend didn't answer. The human was sitting on his chair with his head in his hands, staring at the floor.

"The Geth stays aboard. Let her look at it under Mordin's supervision. Anything the bitch needs can be shipped in." Garrus said.

"Don't call her that!" Shepard warned, taking the bait hook, line, and sinker.

"Why not?" Garrus demanded, "That's what she is, right? The Illusive man's private lapdog. And now you are too… both of you. I wonder what she did to get so close to him…"

"I swear to god, Garrus," the human growled angrily, rising from his seat, "If you don't stop it I'll-"

"You'll what?" Garrus' face spread into the Turian equivalent of a grin, "Fire the one only friend you have in the galaxy? After all we've been through? Look at yourself, and the way you're standing."

Shepard glanced down. He had risen to his feet, his face was contorted in anger, and one arm had been raised in a threatening stance. The hand fell limply to his side as he examined his own reaction.

"She has a hold on you Shepard," the Turian told him grimly, "As sure as Sovereign had a hold on Saren. I don't much care if you bend her over a table and fuck her till she's blind, but make sure it's _you _doing the _thinking_ for yourself. Don't lose sight of who the enemy is."

"The enemy is the Reapers."

"And after we're done with them?" Garrus asked, "We both know that the Illusive Man is on your list. Make sure she isn't going to get in our way."

Shepard had fallen back onto the couch, gazing blankly into space. He was caught in the middle of a deep self-examination. "I'm not indoctrinated." Technically it was not a question, but Shepard made it sound like one.

"No." the Turian agreed, "Not the way Saren was. But you can't deny that she doesn't have some control over the decisions you make."

"How do I fix it? I don't want to give her up."

"I'm not saying you should." The Turian told him, "But don't lose sight of who is charge. If you stray again, I'll be there to catch you. Everyone needs a watchdog, John. Even you."

* * *

**This little aside popped into my head after playing through the derelict reaper level of mass effect 2. Contrary to what this story might suggest, I am a pathetically huge Shepard/Miranda fan. I'm also a huge Garrus/Shepard Bromance fan, and I find that conflict between the two relationships an interesting one. So depending on the reception for this one, I might turn it into a two or three-parter. To that end, if you read it, please leave a review. Even if it's just a few words.**


	2. Chapter 2

Miranda stared down at the video feed, her blood boiling. The Turian's puerile, caustic imitation was ringing in her ears, mostly because she had sounded the same way to herself when she'd said something very similar to Shepard. To have the tone reproduced so accurately, and with such an acerbic twist…

She took a breath to calm herself. Then tried to think…

As hard as it was to admit it, she needed a sounding board. She was far too angry to deal with this rationally by herself.

She pushed the button on her com link and directed the signal to the ship's armoury. "Jacob, could you come to my office for a moment?"

Three minutes later, the black, well-muscled Cerberus operative was walking through her door. She directed his attention to her computer monitors, then replayed the video feed from the hidden camera in Shepard's room.

There was a moment of silence as the soldier absorbed Garrus' exchange with Shepard. Then he whistled, "Miranda…never thought I'd see you let your hair down. The Shep got to you too, huh?"

"Careful Jacob." She said quietly. The operative recognized her tone. It said: the ice was cracking _before _you came.

He relented, "What can I do to help?"

Miranda rubbed the back of her neck, "I'm at a loss, Jacob. You know that when the Turian speaks, Shepard listens. I can't have him harboring that kind of suspicion."

Jacob cleared his throat, "Just to be clear here," he murmured uncomfortably, "you aren't actually trying to seduce him like Garrus said-"

"Of course not you dolt! It wasn't…intended." Miranda said angrily, "We just…he always came around to check in. Asked questions, showed an interest…"

"I know. Relax Miranda, I'm here to help." Jacob told her in a soothing voice.

"Besides, the Illusive Man gave me no such order." She said.

Jacob gave her a stare which lasted far too long in her private opinion.

"He gave me no such order." She repeated.

"And if he had?"

She shrugged, "Then I would have seduced Shepard."

"You would have tried." Jacob corrected.

Miranda gave him a dry expression, "Really, Jacob? Look at me."

"That's only a point in your favor." The male operative said, shaking his head, "we both know that Shep looks at more than that. I think the only reason you got as close as you did is because he thinks it's genuine."

"It _is _genuine!" she growled, "I'm…it was borne of conversation and mutual respect. He asked questions, showed and interest and he got to know me…"

"He does it to me too. The talking thing… I thought it was weird at first, but then I realized he was doing it to everyone. Even Kelly and the pilot. He even knew about Rolston's family before it was reported to us. He actually _cares_, Miranda."

"I'm aware of that, Jacob." Miranda said, staring at Shepard's profile on the screen, "He fought as hard for me and my sister as he did against the collectors. I've only ever seen him fight harder once and that was when he was helping that_ Turian_ hunt down Fade."

"Garrus." Jacob muttered.

"What?"

"Call him by name," Jacob explained, "You have to tread very carefully here, Miranda. That cold front you use is only going to make things worse."

"I am not going to go on one knee before Vakarian and beg him to trust me." She snapped irritably, "I have my pride."

"You may have to, Miranda, for the good of the mission." Jacob took a seat in the chair which she had privately labeled as 'Shepard's'. "I'm not sure how well you know the aliens in this crew…"

"I receive regular psyche evaluations from yeoman Kelly." Miranda told him icily.

"Right," the black man nodded, "and we both know just how much doesn't make it into the reports. Seeing a Human and a Turian fighting like that, side by side, taking on the universe together… I have no doubt at all that that was _the _deciding factor for at least some of the aliens aboard. They knew from the start that this human was _not _xenophobic. The fact that his closest friend is a Turian proved that from the start."

"That may be why Shepard takes him along so often…" Miranda murmured admiringly, more to herself than to Jacob, "Shrewd."

"Again, you're reading it wrong." Jacob sighed, "You're thinking like a Cerberus agent. Try thinking like Shepard. Shepard takes Garrus because they're best friends. They know each other. And two of them roll through everything. You saw. Shepard's at the top of his game when Garrus is backin' him up. And Garrus is at the top of _his _when he's followin' Shepard's lead. You weren't there when the three of us picked up Krios." Jacob's voice took on a despondent tone, "I wasted one and a half thermal clips in my pistol, and used my biotics once. That's it. The two of them just pulled out their sniper rifles and everything died before it got in my range. I swear, every time Shepard pulls the trigger, he gets and headshot. And Garrus is just as good."

"Poor Jacob," Miranda simpered, "Feeling a little excluded, are we?"

"That's not the point!" the soldier snapped, "The point is that they have a sweet deal going. If you spoil it, it'll be bad for everyone on board. Besides, Vakarian doesn't want to screw you." The man paused, grinned to himself, and murmured, "Unlike Shepard…"

Miranda gave him a stare only slightly colder than the temperature outside the hull of the ship. "And how can you know that, Jacob?"

"Because that Quarian we got down in engineering hasn't heard a word of this."

Miranda nodded. Tali'Zorah vas Normandy… the young Quarian woman was extremely anti-Cerberus. Miranda had filed the attitude under 'Problematic'. On top of that, the Quarian had feelings for Shepard. The conspiracy Garrus had suggested would fit right in with her opinions of Cerberus, and of Miranda.

The hatred would be immature, nonsensical, and born as much from the young Quarian's own insecurities as from any actions Cerberus had taken, but it could still cause damage.

One thing which Miranda did not feel at all was jealousy. Tali's childish love of Shepard was a result of adoration, not mutual respect, and it was completely one-sided. While taking down Saren, Shepard had gotten involved with a human soldier: Ashley Williams. That particular relationship had gone the way of the Rachni in the intervening years, but it showed that Shepard's tastes in women leaned towards 'human', 'capable' and 'pretty'. Instead of 'alien' and 'immature'. Besides, the Quarian's knees were the wrong way around. If Miranda knew anything about men, then she knew that it was probably an instant turn-off.

Miranda briefly wondered if Shepard had chosen _her_ in order to get back at Williams, but quashed the suspicion before it could take root. If _he _was not to be allowed to harbor suspicions about her, then she certainly was _not _going to be a hypocrite. And she wanted him to like her…

"Miranda?" Jacob asked gently, bringing her back.

She sighed, "For all the time I spent in the Lazarus project, I always felt that Shepard would have to fight to earn my respect. I never thought I'd have to fight to earn Garrus Vakarian's."

* * *

**Okay so, the reception was almost unanimously positive. I've decided to expand the story. As far as I know, no fanfic quite covers this angle. The closest I knw of is "Second" by ElectricZ (on my favorite authors list). If anyone knows of any others, please I beg you, drop me a line.**

**The way Jacob described Thane's mission on Illium was pretty much exactly what went down when I played it through on the casual setting. I took Garrus and Jacob, and Jacob got no kills. I got almost all of them with the few that slipped through the net being caught by Garrus. My Shep is a fully upgraded infiltrator and with the sniper slow-down, getting 99% headshots is the easiest thing in the world on that mission.**

**As for the Tali lovers out there, I'm sorry, but I don't really like the character all that much. Miranda's opinions mirror my own. Tali seemed out of place on the original Normandy. I never felt like I was being accompanied by a capable fighter; I was chaperoning a kid. I'd have to answer to her daddy if she ever bit the bullet. And then in mass effect 2, she joins the crew again, older, but not all that much more mature. The only time when she actually seemed grown up was the moment when she asks you to exile her. **_**That **_**was interesting and complicated.**

**Miranda is an interesting character. In her own way, she's just as blind, arrogant, and self-righteous as anyone else. But she doesn't see it because given her past experiences and her origins, it's a perfectly justified opinion. I like her romance option because it actual feels like it has an impact on the end of the game and your relationship with Cerberus. It also feels as if you're opening her eyes, in a way.**

**Jack's just one creepy-ass bitch. I've never ever considered it.**

**Anyway please leave a review if you read it. They keep me going.**


	3. Chapter 3

Watchdog 3

Miranda stood across from Jacob in the well-lit briefing room. Shepard was pacing back and forth along the wall, listening intently. So far, he hadn't exhibited any sign that he had even spoken to Garrus. On one level, she was impressed by the fact that he was able to keep himself so bottled up. Most people wouldn't have been able to. On another level, she was hurt by the fact he hadn't come to her; it said, in effect, 'no matter what you say, I'm never going to quite believe you…'

Jacob was standing behind the table, opposite her. He too was hiding the signs that he knew what was going on. A hologram in the middle depicted the intact Geth.

Miranda said, "I think it's time we discussed the unique piece of salvage we recovered. For now, we've stored it in EDI's AI core." She looked across at Jacob, not quite willing to meet Shepard's eye, "We need better equipment to fight the reapers. And intact Geth would be invaluable to Cerberus' Cyber-weapons division." If she had never seen the video footage of his conversation with Garrus, she never would have seen it, but it put a cold stone in the bottom of her gut.

"We'll have to disagree on that, ma'am." Jacob said, leaning on the table. He seemed completely into the meeting, either not noticing, or completely ignoring the silent argument. He said, "I saw enough of these things on Eden Prime. Space it."

Despite the precariousness of her relationship with Shepard, Miranda felt the operative inside her blanch at the suggestion, "Cerberus has a long-standing cash bounty on an intact Geth." She finally looked at Shepard, who crossed his arms and stared at the hologram, "I assure you, the reward is significant."

"I'm not deciding one way or the other until I know what we've got here." He said.

_Or you just don't want to show any sign of agreeing with my position…_Miranda's hindbrain inserted.

"I want to start it up. Interrogate it."

"If we activate it, there is no guarantee we can deactivate it again." She said forcefully, trying to draw a reaction from him.

"Bullets can." Jacob suggested.

Miranda turned on him angrily, "That's not what I-"

"Thank you," Shepard said, looking at Jacob. He turned to Miranda, and she still couldn't' read him, "_Both _of you, for your recommendations. I've made my decision."

"Tali's gonna freak when she hears about this." Jacob muttered, tapping his omni-tool. The hologram changed to a small, unremarkable piece of hardware, "So what about this reaper IFF?"

They stared down at it. A blue orb appeared in place of the object. EDI's pleasant voice filtered through the intercom, "I have determined how to integrate it with the Normandy's systems. However the device _is_ reaper technology. It is important we test it thoroughly before attempting the Omega 4 relay. It will take some time to properly integrate it with our systems."

"Let me know when it's done." Shepard said, finally uncrossing his arms, "Until then, we keep building our team."

"Of course Shepard," the AI intoned, "the crew will begin working immediately."

Miranda found that she couldn't remain in the room while he kept that wall up. "I'll let you know when the IFF is ready for shakedown." She walked out.

Jacob caught up with her, "You aren't going to talk to him?"

"Not until I've had a chat with Garrus." Miranda replied grimly.

* * *

Calibrations…

Garrus had gotten so incredibly bored of them. The Thanix cannon was a formidable weapon, but it was not entirely compatible with the Normandy. Something in the other systems regularly threw its targeting array out of sync, and until the culprit system was identified, it required almost constant recalibrations.

He was almost relieved when the message came through, though it's sender made him slightly wary. He was not worried; he had suspected she had hidden cameras or some such device planted in Shepard's room. It only proved his point.

He paused at her door, watching it open. He waited until it had opened fully, and then examined the room beyond. Miranda was seated at her desk, waiting for him. Seeing his reaction, she said, "We both know why you're here. There are no traps or anything, Garrus. I want to talk. That's all. Even if you were right, I wouldn't dare attack you, it would hurt him too much."

Garrus relaxed and stepped inside. He took a seat in the chair which John had so often occupied.

"I've not asked you here to beg for your trust either." The woman said shortly, "But I do want to insure that there's not going to be any trouble."

"That depends, doesn't it?" Garrus asked.

Miranda leaned forward, "I get worried when members of this project begin trying to drive wedges between others."

"And I get worried when my friend starts doing things out of character." The Turian responded evenly.

"There are many perfectly justifiable reasons for saving that Geth. We both know it."

"It's not just that." Garrus replied.

"Well what, then? I'd be perfectly happy to address any of your concerns and put them to rest."

"Akuze," Garrus said, "Cerberus was responsible for that. Kahoku. You killed him, and his team. You were experimenting on the Thorian, as well. Your organization has been plaguing Shepard for his entire military life. Why would he suddenly agree to work with you?"

"Perhaps he believes in a greater good." Miranda suggested.

"I've never known him to compromise with criminals." Garrus told her, "So I get worried when that changes."

"We are _not_ criminals." Miranda replied, "Shepard and I have discussed those events and have agreed to disagree in order to maintain the cohesion of the Lazarus cell. Besides, those actions are justifiable." She softened slightly, "I'm angry because John and I are in a relationship, Garrus. I'm not aware what the Turian social codes are regarding that sort of thing, but in earth culture, trying to split up a couple is frowned upon."

"I don't particularly care." The Turian shrugged, "And I don't particularly care what Shepard may or may not have been doing with you. I do care that he's not being himself. I think you're using that relationship to control him. That stops now. He's no one's lapdog."

"If we wished him to be a 'lap dog' we would have placed a control chip in his brain." Miranda snapped, "The Illusive man specifically instructed me not to. The fact is that I am not trying to alter his choices in any way. I am merely giving him options, and making him aware of Cerberus' interests as is my job."

"Has it occurred to you that _you_ just might _be _the control chip?"

Miranda stared.

"I thought not." Garrus' face formed the Turian equivalent of a frown, "The Illusive man does whatever it takes, right? Shepard's told me what he knows, and I put out a few feelers of my own while I was on the citadel. I know that your boss would do whatever it took to get the job done. Does that include a little social engineering? You are pretty, smart, capable… every ideal trait a human man looks for. And Shepard broke with Williams less than two weeks before you made a move on him. Then you start to encourage him to look out for Cerberus interests…"

"Rescuing my sister was not a 'move'." Miranda snarled, increasingly angry with the Turian.

"Wasn't it? Get him to save your sister, and then you have a chance to 'thank' him? Fact is I'm not even convinced you actually _have_ a sister."

Miranda stared. She had no idea how to respond to this sort of paranoia. Anything she said could be explained away as a lie, or a Cerberus cover-up. Visions of her youth, of the young baby sleeping innocently in its cradle, of the bullets zipping over Miranda's head as she weaved through the forest, her sister in her arms, flashed through her mind. She was absolutely livid.

"Was I not displaying enough emotion to make it real?" she whispered.

"You can perform advanced mathematics in your head, crush targets with your biotics, and blow their brains out at a hundred yards away…" Garrus said, "Who's to say you can't act as well?"

"My only job is to make sure John Shepard succeeds."

"My job is to watch John Shepard's back, and to make sure that he stays John Shepard." Garrus replied, "I don't trust your motivations. Your loyalty isn't to him; it's to the illusive man, and to Cerberus. Imagine a message appears on your monitor: Terminate John Shepard. Would you do it?"

"I…no." Miranda said forcefully.

Garrus rose to his feet, "the fact that you hesitated tells me all I need to know, Miss Lawson."

"I'd ask the illusive man to justify the order." She replied, "And he'd better have had a damned good reason."

"But suddenly there's a new message," Garrus said, "Terminate John Shepard or else we tell your father where Oriana is."

Miranda stared. She had grown so used to people being under her command, responding unquestioningly to her orders, that she was unused to fighting back.

"You didn't say a single word that entire mission!" she murmured.

"Because I was listening." Garrus replied, "The simple fact is that I can't trust you. It doesn't matter whether or not any feelings you may or may not have for Shepard are genuine; Cerberus has a hold on you. And through you, they have a hold on him. That's unacceptable. John is a good person, but a little naïve. I'm not. I don't care how many fancy toys you give us, I don't trust you. When it all comes down to it, you aren't on our side. I'll fight alongside you in order to maintain-" his mandibles twitched, "- unit cohesion, but I've got my eye on you. Now if there's nothing else, I need to get back to work."

Miranda glared at him, knowing she'd just been dismissed, "And what of my relationship with John? Would you have us stop?"

"No." the Turian shook his head, "He deserves a little rest and relaxation, and no one can deny that. But I'd have him be aware I just hope he's strong enough to pull the trigger when the time comes..."

"Get out." She ordered.

The Turian rose from his seat and walked to the door, "If he's not strong enough, I'll do it"

**I'm aware that Garrus' position may seem a little extreme, but considering what happened to him with Sidonis, and his own background, it's not unreasonable to expect him to be a little pessimistic.**


	4. Chapter 4

Watchdog 4

Miranda sat at her desk, staring at the blank screen. In theory, she was writing a report to the illusive man, but all that greeted her eyes was eth sight of a fresh, blank page. The only thing running through her head was Garrus' comment: _Has it occurred to you that you just might be the control chip? _

She heard the door open, and didn't have to look up to know exactly who it was. He had a presence which made everything else in the room, even the screen in front of her, background. After a few moments, she allowed her eyes to leave her monitor and travel up his well-muscled body until they reached his own. A troubled expression was on his face, but in his eyes, she still recognized trust and affection.

Miranda smiled sadly, "I'm amazed you're standing here, considering all that Garrus said."

"Is any of it true?" he asked, taking a seat. He rested his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in the same stance he'd used the first time he'd stepped into her office, demanding answers about Cerberus. She tried to remember how things had gotten from there to here, but could not concentrate under the heat of his gaze.

Miranda clicked her tongue irritably and looked down at her keyboard, keeping her emotions buried, "What kind of stupid question is that, John? Whether I'm here to corrupt you or not, you'll only get one answer."

"But you're not." He said. It was a statement of fact.

"_How can you be so sure_?" she demanded.

"Because I trust you."

Miranda stared at him, her lips parted, eyes wide with shock. She groped for an answer and couldn't find one. She kept staring into his eyes, trying to find the trick, looking for any sign that he was joking, or drunk, possibly. The thought that he was actually genuine was horrifying to her. She collected herself and said, "I truly do care about you, Shepard. But that could easily be part of the Illusive Man's plans. You and I together could be one of hundreds of possible contingencies he's planned for."

"If that's the case, then it's_ his_ problem. As long as you're genuine, I don't care what he has planned."

She stared at him. _God…am I really _that _good_? She thought to herself, feeling sick. Garrus' position suddenly made sense. John Shepard was not acting as John Shepard. Not completely, anyway. He wanted her favor, and his morals had been compromised in order to attain it. Not by much, but the damage was evident.

"It's _our _problem, John." Miranda said, flustered, "Firstly, because If he's expecting it, then he has a way to use it against us. Secondly, because I still believe in what Cerberus stands for, and I'll still be pushing his agenda, whether I mean to or not!" She sighed, "I was given orders to bring you back exactly as you were, the same man, the same morals… and I've corrupted my own successful experiment."

"You still view me as an experiment?" Shepard asked. Miranda detected hints of amusement in his voice.

"No!" she ran her hands through her hair and let them smack down on her desk, "that's why it's all gone wrong. I should've kept you at arm's length. It would have been safer for both of us."

"Whatever the illusive man is planning, we'll deal with it when it comes." He said.

"What if it's come and gone?" she demanded angrily, finally losing her cool.

"Then the price of having you was worth it, Miranda. I haven't done anything I regret yet."

"What about joining Cerberus?" she asked, "Working with us at all? Especially considering the incident on Akuze…"

"I agreed to do that long before I fell for you." He smirked, "At that point I thought you were a complete bitch, to be honest."

Miranda felt somewhat reassured by his comment, but she was still worried.

"I'm not an idiot, Miri. I know what I've gotten myself into." He assured her. But when he left, she felt worse, and more confused, than before.

* * *

Miranda stood in the center of the holographic interface, watching the light of the scanners slowly crawl up her curvaceous body. She didn't like doing this, but she was beginning to question things which she wasn't before. Things were muddled, and she needed to clear the air a little.

The light engulfed her and she found herself standing in the center of a small lit circular platform. Before her was a long dark floor with faint gridlines. A figure was sitting amidst a sea of floating holographic displays. Behind him was a large orb, constantly changing shape and color, it was hypnotic.

"This is unscheduled, Operative Lawson." The figure said, smoke curling from his lit cigarette.

"I'm aware of that, sir." She replied, standing at ease, "There's been a…behavioral issue."

The Illusive Man's eyes glinted, "Indeed?"

"It's… Project Lazarus, sir." Miranda said, "I believe he's become too close. Emotionally, I mean."

The smoke curled upwards, "Indeed?"

"I respectfully request a transfer."

The figure's eerie blue eyes focused on her, "The Lazarus Project emotionally invested in _you_?"

"I believe so." Miranda said.

"Request denied." The Illusive man said flatly, "We want him as comfortable as possible, especially considering the emotional instability which may have been induced by his argument with chief Williams. Humor him. At least until his mission is brought to a successful conclusion."

Miranda saluted respectfully, "Sir, can I ask a question?"

"Certainly."

"Did you…" she hesitated, "did you plan for this, sir?"

The blue eyes looked her up and down, giving her a piercing stare, "Is something on your mind, Lawson?"

"I just want to be sure I am still working in Cerebus' best interests, sir." She replied woodenly, aware the response itself did not make a whole lot of sense.

"Yes," The Illusive Man reached over and tapped his cigarette, knocking a small amount of ash from the end, "Shall we talk about Cerberus interests, Miranda? It's been such a long time since we last talked…"


	5. Chapter 5

Watchdog 5

Shepard looked slowly around the empty CIC, his blood boiling. The Collectors had shown just how close they could get. The Normandy had always been his safe haven. His port in the storm. The one place where he could allow himself to relax. For the Collectors to…to _violate_ her like this…

His fingers flexed involuntarily. The desire to act surged through him, a white hot wave. He longed for nothing more than to fly straight over to the collector base and return the favor.

"Please confirm the destination, Shepard. The reaper IFF is online, but there is a chance that the Normandy may not survive the omega 4 relay." EDI's voice echoed through the speakers of the empty room, "Once we are en route, we are commited."

"The collectors took my people." Shepard said firmly, "Time to go get them back."

"You got it, Commander." Joker confirmed, "Plotting a course for the Omega 4 relay, ETA about two hours. I'll let you know when we arrive."

Shepard turned and stalked towards the elevator. The door opened prematurely to reveal Miranda Lawson, dressed in her black skintight suit. He stepped to the side, about to mumble an apology, but she blocked his path saying, "Oh, Pardon me Commander." In a low voice.

He tried to dodge again, but she placed a hand on his chest, the contact making him freeze. As he looked into her eyes, he realized that no one of it had been accidental.

She leaned in close, her mouth adjacent to his ear. He could feel her warm breath tickling his neck. The operative's scent filled the air. In combination with the contact, it was making him lose his focus. His desire to beat the collectors was suddenly riding backseat, submitting to another kind of desire, far older and more powerful in its own way.

"I've cleared the engine room," she breathed, "Be there in five minutes."

"I should have known you wouldn't settle for the captain's quarters." He replied, keeping his composure.

She walked back to the elevator. His eyes unwilling traveled downwards, watching her move. Once inside, she turned and smiled a sultry, seductive smile. She had caught him looking, but didn't mind at all. She threw him a wink, "I settle for nothing but the best."

* * *

Garrus stood at his consol. He was off-duty at that moment, but there wasn't much to do. The ship was strangely silent. His station was positioned near the bow of the narrow ship, nearly as far from the other crew members as anyone could get. This meant that he was isolated even when the ship had a full crew complement, but he could still feel the emptiness of the Normandy. Merely knowing that there was no one around made a significant difference despite that fact that nothing in the Turian's routine had changed.

The door behind him slid open with a hiss. Tali was standing there, framed by the light. Garrus gave her a brief nod.

"Garrus," she said angrily, "Miranda just kicked me out of the engine room."

The Turian froze. He turned and stared into the inner workings of the newly installed Thanix cannon, "…And?" He asked eventually, "She's the executive officer."

"Shepard's in charge!"

_I'm not so sure…_ Garrus thought to himself. The last thing he wanted to do was involve Tali.

"So go talk to Shepard about it."

"I can't find him!" Tali said.

Garrus was silent for a long time. Then he spoke: "Just let it go, Tali."

"Why are you taking _her _side?" the Quarian whined.

"I'm not. I'm taking John's."

"Why would Shepard...?" Garrus caught the Quarian's sharp intake of breath, "Oh…no."

"Tali…"

"No!" the young alien shook her head, growing more frantic with each passing second, "NO. NO no no no no. Not Shepard!"

"Leave it alone, it's been dealt with."

"Apparently not!" the alien told him indignantly, "As the two of them are over there right now, _fucking on my console_!"

She turned, ready to charge straight over to the elevator. Garrus caught her arm and pulled her back, "EDI, close the door!"

The door slid shut. The Tuiran locked it with his Omnitool. The Quarian turned on him furiously, "Let me out!"

"I can't do that, Tali."

"I'm not going to let that bitch have her way with Shepard!" she insisted, turning on her own Omnitool.

"I've talked to both of them about it. Believe me, I'm not happy with it, but look at it from Shepard's perspective instead of _your own_ for just one minute."

"One minute." The Quarian volunteered, "After that, I'm going straight to the engine room and I'm going to shoot that bitch!"

"Shepard and I are so far over our heads in this stuff we can't see the light of day," Garrus began, "But he has it worse. We're fighting an enemy which has been wiping out races far more powerful than ours for billions of years. We're doing it without any support from any government body. The citadel council turned us down, and called him crazy. The Alliance declared him dead and hasn't even followed up on the news that he's not. On top of all that, there isn't a single member of his own crew who hasn't asked something of him including you and I. Are you seriously suggesting that he doesn't deserve at least to get his rocks off once before we all die? From what I know about Miranda Lawson, she's probably a damned good lay."

Tali made a noise of disgust, but made no further attempts to hack the door, "What if she's controlling him, Garrus? She's Cerberus."

"If she is, then she has been for a while, and interrupting them now won't do much good anyway."

"And if she turns on us?"

"I've spoken to her." Garrus said, "And I'm not positive, but I'm fairly sure that she actually cares about him. If that's the case, she'll hesitate before she pulls the trigger."

"Oh good," Tali muttered, "That way Shepard has time to register the fact that she turned on him..."

"She'll hesitate. I won't." Garrus said, "I have Shepard's back, Tali. You don't trust either of them. So trust me. Let him have his fun."


	6. Chapter 6

Many times before, Miranda had been at the back end of the Shepard/Garrus tag team, but she had never seen them fight like they did during the final leg of the supposed suicide mission. They moved and covered each other perfectly, each shot complementing the other. The sort of teamwork which the Alliance Marines _wished _their soldiers could do. The spectacular part was that they did it apparently without communicating. There were Xeno-Sympathetic groups out there which would kill for a poster of what Miranda was seeing at that moment.

Shepard had chosen to use his submachine gun, and his assault rifle. He would vanish suddenly and reappear beside the enemy's base of fire, tearing it to shreds, vanishing again before the collectors could do more than hit his shields. Any that tried would immediately be cut down by Garrus, who had set himself up at the opposite end, his 'Widow' sniper rifle cradled in his loving arms like a child. On the rare occasion that one of their insectoid enemies would rise into the air and be engulfed in a brilliant flash of orange light, it's deep voice wouldn't get halfway through "Assuming Direct Control" before it would be cut off by a headshot from Garrus' sniper rifle.

Their combat was much more akin to watching artists paint than it was to watching soldiers kill. Every time she herself got close enough to use her own weapons, her targets would already be dead, and Shepard, with Garrus backing him up, would already be moving on the Collector's next line of defense. The fight ended with Shepard and Garrus standing side by side at the edge of the last platform. Other floating ones would fly in, but the collectors riding them would be dead before the platform docked.

* * *

Up until this point, Miranda had never quite accepted the reapers. Her mission, in her own mind, was to make sure that Shepard succeeded. That was what The Illusive Man desired, and his will would be carried through. Exactly _what_ Shepard would succeed at was not as important to her as the fact that he _should_ succeed. It occurred to her that this overlooked detail had cost a great deal. As she looked up at the colossal abomination, she felt a deep, gripping, all-consuming fear; _this_ was what she had signed on for. She was staring in to the infinite abyss. The Cthulian monstrosity before her was, effectively, a god, and it was out to destroy them. Out to destroy all of galactic civilization. Out to wipe the slate of life clean again, as it had done infinite times before.

And the lone two figures, human and Turian, were standing at its feet and asking the question: how do we kill it? At last she understood why the illusive man had been so casual, so blasé about throwing away billions. The man before her, the man within in whose arms she had been sheltered less than two hours before, killed _gods_! The amount of money taken to resurrect him, which before had seemed so extravagant, so…_wasteful_, seemed to hardly matter at all next to the scale of the Reapers.

For the first time in many, many years, Miranda Lawson was truly humbled by the sheer scope of the universe. She was even more humbled by John Shepard and Garrus Vakarian, both of whom voluntarily stepped up to the abyss, and stared it down, waiting for it to blink first. And, at the citadel at least, it had.

She wished she had treated the Turian with more respect, and she understood why he had been so defensive about Shepard. When facing a universal evil as vast, ancient and infinite as the reapers, a constant force in the universe as unchanging and indomitable as the law of gravity, the only thing the Turian _could _rely on was his friend. She knew Shepard felt exactly the same way.

The Turian had always had a slightly hollow look to his eyes. Miranda had seen the same look, albeit briefly, in the eyes of Ashley Williams. She suspected that if she ever saw under Tali'Zorah's helmet, she would find that same hollowness. Shepard carried it too. Miranda knew that now she would see it every day, every time she looked in the mirror.

She had known Shepard's mission before, on a purely intellectual level. Now she _understood_.

* * *

"Miranda, don't let Shepard destroy the base!" The Illusive Man ordered. Years of obedience kicked in and she raised her pistol, pointing it at Shepard's head. He slowly got to his feet and squared his shoulders, facing her, his arms held loosely at his sides.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, "Pull out your pistol!"

To her shock and horror, he shook his head, "I'd rather take the bullet than pull the trigger on you, Miranda. But I'm going to blow up this base."

"Pull out your pistol!" She pleaded, remembering their time in the engine room not two hours before. Guilt, love, and duty were tearing her to shreds. The muzzle of her pistol was making little figure eights in the air. If he'd just pulled his weapon…it would have made things so much easier. Another part of her was saying: how dare you pull a weapon on this man now that you understand what his mission is!

"I love you, Miranda." Shepard said simply, looking ajsut as shocked at his words as she was, "I can't kill you."

The Illusive Man smiled as if admiring a piece of artwork, "_Well done Operative Lawson!_ Now I gave you an order."

Something in Miranda snapped. She lowered her pistol, shaking, still caught in Shepard's gaze. It wasn't blind love. He understood exactly what could have happened, what she could have been. What she could have done… what she _nearly _had done, and he _still_ wasn't willing to raise his hand against her... in the past, she would have regarded such emotion as weak, but now…

She understood. That emotion was what made him strong. That absolute trust in himself, and those around him was what allowed him to survive battle after battle. The trust in Garrus Vakarian, and the trust in Miranda… and it had very nearly been misplaced…

She had never in her life experienced that level of trust.

She said, "I noticed. You can consider this my resignation."

She was stung and crippled by how quickly The Illusive Man, her own father figure, dismissed her as a non-entity. He immediately turned back to Shepard, "Think of what's at stake, Shepard! You can't jeopardize all of humanity for the sake of an ideal! You-" his holographic form vanished as Miranda flicked off her Omni-tool.

There was a moment of reflective silence. She turned to Garrus and stared at the muzzle of his M98 'Widow' sniper rifle.

The Turian lowered it carefully and gave her a slow nod.

The universe shook and a vast, limitless wall of noise assaulted her ears. She fell onto her back as, to her everlasting horror, the devil itself, the Reaper Larvae rose from the pit, opened its skeletal mouth and roared at the three of them in alien hatred. Not alien to the human race, but alien to the entire galaxy.

John and Garrus stood before it, the pair of them a tiny David before the universe's Goliath. They looked at each other, and reloaded their sniper rifles.

Miranda joined them.

* * *

***Elmer Fudd voice* Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-Dat's all, folks. This is what happens when i go at something half-assed.**

**I know Garrus doesn't have a widow sniper rifle… B****ut he should.**

**This one ended up not going where I thought it was. I dunno how many of you have had a story write itself, but this one kinda did. I always felt that Miranda's loyalty was a little too easy. It always seemed like I was missing half the picture. Here's what the rest of it could have been. I guess…**


	7. Chapter 7

The atmosphere aboard the Normandy was one of jubilation. Miranda wove her way through the crowd of exuberant crewmembers. The away team, all survivors intact, were already aboard, enjoying the accolades of the grateful crew. Joker had convinced EDI to play some loud music over the ship's speakers and someone somewhere had dug up a bottle of booze.

She should have been relieved, she knew. Miranda understood what she had just survived. She understood what had been accomplished. Just what an achievement project Lazarus had been. Yet only two three things were on her mind: the sight of the reaper larvae rising up from the depths of hell to greet her, the thought that if the reapers ever came, her sister wouldn't have a chance, and the last sight of Shepard throwing himself down the broken platform after her, his body rigid, sliding on the very edges of his battered armour trying to pick up speed, the expression on his face one of loss and deep, deep terror. Not fear of the reaper larvae, or leaving the base intact, but fear of losing her personally. It shamed her and she wondered if she'd have done the same thing, if their situation had been reversed. Even now, she wasn't so sure, and that knowledge made her feel sick.

Miranda searched the mass of people for Shepard's stoic profile, but couldn't find it. She pushed her way through the crowd gathered in the CIC, being a little more brutal than the situation called for, but her own mind was so full that it hardly mattered. She finally broke through the thick of the crowd, only to be confronted by crewman Kelly Chambers, the young woman already well on her way to drunk. The redhead threw her unwelcomed arms around Miranda and grinned, "Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you!"

Miranda pushed her away, "Where's Shepard?"

"Up in the loft." Yeoman Kelly gave her a sly, dirty look of the sort decent people shouldn't ever encounter, "You be sure to thank him good and hard for me, okay?" the sober part of her brain caught up with her mouth and her entire expression changed to a rictus of horror, "I'm so sorry ma'am!"

"Shut up." Miranda snapped. She pushed the yeoman away and headed for the elevator.

* * *

Shepard's cabin was dark and heavy, lit only by the faint blue light of the fish tank. As she entered, Miranda felt that she was walking into a crypt. No music was playing. Indeed, the only sound her ears could make out was the gentle slosh of liquid in glasses, accompanied by the staccato tapping of ice-cubes. The atmosphere was thick and silent, filled with a deadened sour depression in complete contrast to the party taking place on the decks below.

The cabin door slid shut behind her, and Miranda was engulfed in darkness. She took a few hesitant steps forward, staring through the glass case in which Shepard was carefully displaying ship models. She could make out the bulk of Garrus Vakarian, the Turian, his profile outlined by the faint blue light. She touched the railing lightly and descended, bringing John into view. The two of them were set up on the commander's couch. She watched them quietly for a few moments, taking them in. They were both battered, scarred and bleeding, yet neither seemed interested in tended to his wounds. The mutilated armour had been piled on the floor, Shepard's red armour mixed in with the Turian's blue. Both drinkers wore grim expressions and sat in complete brooding silence. Two bottles had been placed on the table, one for Turian physiology, the other for human. Miranda did not have to look to know that the contents of both bottles would probably melt the table they were sitting on. One small glass had been placed in front of each of them, and they took turns pouring and emptying. Miranda's hindbrain noticed a strange fact; the human poured for the Turian, and the Turian poured for the human. Neither had laid a hand on his own bottle. Ii was surreal and ritualistic. Miranda knew that despite her relationship with Shepard, if she attempted to join them, she would be the third wheel, the unwanted party. Even asking for a moment alone with John would be an unforgivable sin. This quiet moment of solitude and reflection was for them, and them alone.

She nodded to herself and turned, trying to be a quiet as possible. As she reached the door, a quiet voice called her back. To her mild surprise, though she was not offended, the voice was Turian, not Human, "Miranda."

She walked back and waited for the Turian. Neither of them met her eye. They were both too exhausted.

"Sit." The Turian ordered.

She hesitated a moment and he motioned at Shepard's seat. John shuffled over, pulling his own glass with him. Garrus reached down between his legs and produced a third glass. It was passed down to Miranda. The Turian lifted the human bottle up and refilled both of their glasses, the amber liquid sloshing around and pooling in the bottom. Miranda watched as the Turian skillfully filled them to the brim, the darkness having no effect whatsoever on his aim.

She gently reached across Shepard towards the Turian bottle and paused, judging their reactions. Shepard hadn't moved a muscle, but was staring into the depths of his glass in stoic, brooding silence. Garrus met her eye and gave only the slightest nod. She had received Permission. In an earlier age, everything about this ceremony would have annoyed her, yet the time before the larvae baptism seemed another life, hundreds of centuries and a million light years away. She picked up the bottle and refilled the Turian's glass.

"Two down." The Turian said.

"Billions to go." Shepard replied.

They stared at their drinks.

They drank their drinks.

Garrus refilled both of the humans' glasses, and Miranda, her hands steadier than John's, refilled his. Her lover still had not met her eye. He had not met Garrus' gaze either, but was staring at his glass as if it were the only real thing in the universe.

The stared at their drinks.

They rank their drinks.

Once again, Garrus refilled their glasses. This time Shepard refilled the Turian's. The human man raised his glass, "To Kaiden and Pressly and all the rest."

"To all the ones we've yet to lose." The Turian replied, raising his own glass. It wasn't particularly poetic, but it was honest and heartfelt, and that was all it needed to be. The two veterans held a small moment of silence, then Shepard straightened up and set his glass down on the table. Garrus did the same. Miranda followed their lead, knowing that some appropriate moment had passed. She cleared her throat nervously, "I was wondering if I could have a word."

Garrus nodded and rose to his feet. Miranda stopped him, "Not with John." She glanced at Shepard, "Yet, anyway."

The Commander flashed her a tired smile, obviously in the warm, fuzzy grip of an alcoholic haze. Garrus lead her out into the hallway. They stood in awkward silence for a moment, waiting for the doors to close.

"He's drunk." Garrus observed, "I'm not too much better myself."

"I don't do this often, but I wanted to apologize." Miranda told him, "If I'd known… If I'd understood about the Reapers…"

The Turian shook his head, "There's no way we could have explained it to you. The illusive man's methods can't win. He's corruptible and it'll all turn back on him in the end. I'm just glad I didn't have to shoot you." He paused and looked back at the doorway, "I think it would have broken Shepard. He loves you, you know."

"I know."

Garrus crossed the narrow hallway and punched a console to summon the elevator, "Miranda," he said as the doors opened. The former Cerberus operative turned to meet his eye. "Don't break him." the Turian warned her.

She smiled slightly, "I'm sure if I did, you'd be right there to pick up the pieces, Garrus."

* * *

**Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. The last chapter was supposed to be the end, but you know what? Screw it. Here's another one. **


End file.
